WEBVTT

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This way in which
the personality

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of people and their
allegiances, their fixed

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things in the right
mood of compassion

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seem to disappear and to
fade and be reformed again.

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So that the individual
person seems

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to be no more fix
than a cloud of smoke.

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The more you love,
the more you are

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aware of the person you love.

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And therefore, the
more you are aware

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of their eventual disappearance,
the more you're aware of them

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as a physical being.

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The more you're aware
of the disappearance

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of that physical being.

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Here's a poem in which
admiring and loving this woman.

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Everything she
does, nevertheless

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seems to suggest her
eventual disappearance.

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And this increases my love.

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I call the poem, "She Ghosts."

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Not she ghosts that is female
ghosts, but as an active verb.

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She causes things to
ghost, she ghosts things.

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And she begins by
smoking her cigarette.

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"She ghosts that firm
white cigarette in sips.

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The dress fades over her
throat in puffs of tulle.

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She thrusts the window wide.

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Earth turns into
the predawn light.

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From the chimney stacks
the white smoke ghosts

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begin rooted and running.

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An ashtray falls to
the floor with a ring.

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Spits gray ashes
erasing in the breeze.

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Her Martini Shivers sobs
spirit up the sides in rings.

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She thrusts her eyes
wide into the chill,

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with tears the white breath
ghost goes rooted and running.

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The parties smokes
fade in chill.

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I cross and pull
the window close,

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take her warmth into my own
for the white breath ghosts.

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Since we are not dawn
spiraling into the air,

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nor Earth in her dew sweat,
nor fevered grass rooted

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and running yet."

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